Well, it’s only fair.
IIRC sunrise in the winter is generally in the 6:30-7AM range.
My work starts at 4AM, so I’m up at 2:30AM at the latest. Whenever my schedule shifts to a later time, it’s like I’m lost in a wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey space and time continuum, especially the later the shift begins: Sunlight?!? What’s that?!?
The key fob remote thingie do for my car is broken. I have ordered another. Not a huge deal but for the fact that when I exit the car, all of the door locks open. And since I can’t reach the passenger back door lock, it’s a trip around the car every time, locking doors.
First world problems, indeed.
My mom has been sick. She was in the hospital for 2 weeks in February for an infection she refused to treat for about three weeks, leading to severe dehydration. Then a few weeks later, she developed a UTI. Did you know that if you’re over the age of 60, hallucinations with UTIs were common?
Anyway, since my mom and I don’t live in the same town, we had to send over the police for a wellness check and she was promptly sent to the hospital. When I arrived at the hospital, she immediately started shouting driving directions at me and I spent the next nearly 24 hours pretending to drive safely down the interstate so she’d calm down and helping her pick eggplants off the ceiling and contacts out of my hair…that was after she started remembering me. As luck would have it, she also broke and dislocated her shoulder, probably while staggering around her home, hallucinating from said UTI.
Anyway, we get her taken care of, settled in a rehab hospital for a few weeks after her recovery from the UTI and back at home with 24-hour help. So I come back to St. Louis to find that my daughter has broken her ankle. So I run her over to urgent care. That same night, I started feeling bad, so I went back to urgent care after putting her to bed. Now I have a UTI. UTIs for fucking everyone! And I’m also the proud host of an infection they think I got at the hospital. Goddammit.
Anyway, I’m on antibiotics and at least a few miles away from the flooding here in St. Louis. But what I’m really trying to say with this practically incoherent post is so far 2017 can just go fuck itself right in the ear.
Pop-of-Andrew and I are in the middle of a divorce. He is seeing someone else (who I refer to as ‘the Floozy’). The whole thing is ugly.
His parents have told both of us that they are not on his side OR on my side – they are on 'Lil Andrew’s side. MIL even told Pop that he is setting a bad example for his child.
Last night MIL posted a recipe to the Floozy’s facebook page, with the note that Pop would like it. I should not feel this betrayed, but I do. For some reason, that hurt a lot.
Don’t you have a master lock button on the driver’s door that will lock them all at once?
I’m sorry to hear this news. I hope that you’re able to see that they sort of have to be on Pop’s side, much as they love you - imagine if it were Andrew in this position. Are your parents living? If so, can they provide any support?
Hugs to you if you want them.
I think I was well over 50 when someone in a nursing home mentioned that. Fairly easy to deal with in a nursing home. More of a problem for someone at home. What do you say? You’re acting strange, let’s get your pee checked?
Hope the rest of 2017 slows down for you.
(((Mom-of-Andrew)))
Yeah. That would sting.
I have a colonscopy next week. Ugh.
Couldn’t decide if I should post here or in the workplace rants thread, since it’s not my workplace, but my wife is surrounded by fuckwits at her job and is about ready to walk out. She is overloaded at work, can’t get any help, and yet there are three college age girls working part time at the store who just sit around and do nothing all day. And if my wife bitches about it, then she’s the bad guy. (The latest is, they not only don’t work, but now they are coloring in coloring books while they are on the clock. And management seems perfectly OK with it.)
I ordered some Birkenstocks off Amazon. It was a longtime seller with a high rating and fulfilled by Amazon. The shoes arrived today. The shoes themselves are fine but the box is completely busted. It’s broken at all ends and it’s held together by a rubber band. Some idiot looked at that box and realized that it was never going to fly and instead of getting a different box, put a rubber band around it and mailed it off anyway. The tissue paper around the shoes is completely inadequate, too, torn and dirty. I’m thinking the shoes are stolen and the box was fished out of someone’s trash.
So aggravating. Amazon is handling the return, and they aren’t charging me anything, so at least there’s that.
Disproportionately annoyed by the fact that I’ve been waiting three weeks for my dermatologist to phone in a prescription refill, only to discover the damn thing was available over the counter the whole time. I am literally turning into my mother before my own eyes…my politeness filter is disintegrating faster and faster every day.
Yeah, I had to wait three weeks for new test strips for my glucose meter. Why? because the woman at my endocrinologist’s office neglected to specify what kind of meter I use, when she sent in the order. She just sent in an order for “test strips”. The pharmacy can’t just take my word for it. They kept calling her, and she kept telling them that she had already sent them the order, and not listening to them explaining the problem. Her entire job is sending in prescription refills, and she can’t even do that right. I had to actually call my doctor about this, and he sent in the correct information. So as a result or her incompetence, I couldn’t test my blood for three weeks.
My insurance fucked up a few months ago and told me I couldn’t have my Januvia (Diabetes med) for another two weeks when I was dead out of it.
Was driving down the road about 30 miles from home after a couple of days without it when I started going all wonky - feeling like withdrawal from depression meds, which I’m sure some of you know how horrible that can be. Terrifying and I had to drive home that way.
I had to pay $450 out of pocket :eek: to get my prescription filled that day (Yes, $450 for 30 pills, a 30 days supply - for meds that cost $107 in Canada (thanks Republicans!)) Then get that money refunded once my insurance got sorted out.
//dipwad coworker says sarcastically: Guess what else we’re out of! (mildly pain in the ass item that would cause rescheduling appointments if it’s not in stock)
//me: What! How did we go through a hundred of those in three weeks!
//dipwad coworker: I don’t know but there’s literally one left…
//me: I’ll add it to the order but we won’t get it until Tuesday.
Dipwad walks away. I think better of her observation skills and go check the backstock fridge myself. Hmm. There’s a bundle of plastic bags on the bottom shelf that shouldn’t be there. I’ll just move them to where they belong… and of course pain in the ass item is right where it should be, under the bags, and 50 left. (they’re small).
Why is it so hard to look under something, especially when it’s in the same place something else should be, and that something else is small? It’s SO DAMN HARD!!
My cousin’s husband died Thursday night, probably due to complications after surgery to remove his cancerous bladder. They got rid of all the cancer, but apparently left him with an infection that she took him to the hospital for on Wednesday and, I suspect, killed him.
I was going to meet both of them for the first time in August, because I was going to visit them and watch the eclipse.
Yeah, I’m getting really tired of people dying. A teammate’s mom, a co-worker, and a close friend.
And it’s always the ones that would’ve been improving the world if they were still here.
Hey, universe – I can give you a list of people you should take… before you get around to the good ones.
Guy knocks on the front door. No one I know, so I ignore. He knocks again. Not going away so easily, so I talk to him. “Here are our pest control services …” nice picture card, he starts listing them. Bugs, rodents …
“What? Spiders? Sorry, I do not do business with known spider killers. Bye.”
Well, that’s what you try. And if they’re 90 and need help at the doctor’s office (like my gma, because if her lips are moving she’s lying), the family member/friend suggests the test be done. And if there’s no POA for health issues, and she refuses because she’s a bitter, paranoid harridan, the doctor doesn’t push it.
And her daughter, my mother…she’s not coming for two weeks. It’s a month now. And since I didn’t magic up a hotel that fit her impossible requirements, she’s living with us.
I will be going to a hotel when the excrement hits the air conditioning. Newborn or not. On the advice of my blessedly sane MIL.
The Boy just had his 4th birthday. My mother wanted to get him a tent so he and I could “camp out” in the back yard. So she bought a 1 person tent.:smack:
It’s not big enough for the two of us and there’s no way he’s sleeping outside alone at 4 years old! She’s so defensive about presents that it isn’t worth asking her to return it.
What a waste.